My Nightingale

This is about *chechi. 

In a house with no male presence and protection, chechi used to rely a lot on her loving and caring uncles. Her relatives admired her cheerfulness and singing skills. Audio cassettes were trending in those days. My father recorded her sweet voice and played it out in the mornings. 

She always looked gorgeous and had a sweet touch of her own when talking about things. Her voice reverberates in my mind though it has been seven years since we met the last time. We used to play a lot during childhood. She and her two sisters were always game! Kulam kara, Saat (Hide n seek), Akku, Kutteem kolum painted a cool picture of our childhood years. Chechi mostly emerged the winner. We used to complain  that she is not allowing us to win! 

We all grew old while she kept her cheerfulness intact. The last time we met,  she blamed me for not recognising her from a long distance. Sorry about my bad eyesight! We spent some good time. She said bye cheerfully. I went back to my routine and she went back to hers. 

Things changed drastically later. She became seriously ill. It was a challenging phase. I wanted to talk to her personally. I wished to listen to her 19-year-old daughter whom I last spoke several years back. I was forced to restrain myself. Some conversations are hurtful. People in her closed circle told me to not to talk about it as she was looking for loneliness. So, *Amma and *Appachi used to get me all her details. 

Chechi battled the serious illness with her fighting spirit, as told by Appachi. I remembered her one day. I dialled chechi's mother and realised that things are not good. I felt their prolonged sadness. My consoling words did not help them. I stayed silent and listened to them.

Life is a strange spectacle. A couple of days back, my grandmother asked me about chechi. I told that she was keeping well. Grandmother did not buy my answer. She shared one dream she saw the other day. It was not a good one. 

My mother also reminded me about calling chechi's mom as it had been long since we had a conversation. So, I called up chechi's mother yesterday. I also talked to chechi's sisters. All of them were keeping low. It affected me. I thought of writing about chechi. I was typing this note when maman (uncle) came home. It was around 5 am in the morning. He broke the tragic news in front of Amma and Achan (Father).  Grandma's worst fear had come true. Our nightingale flew away from us. How much pain she would have suffered these years? Did she had anyone to share her struggles? Did she kept it to herself to make her people feel better? 

I can sense chechi's pain. I am okay if this pass away make her feel better to live without pain. I wish she was there for her daughter, husband and her fighting mother. I wanted to read this note to you,  chechi. I was your pet brother and you used to shower me a lot of love in childhood. But you are not here and my note will not reach you either. They say Nightingales have a short lifespan. However, their meagre presence can make us feel blissful. They sing beautifully, like how you used to hung 'Thaaraatt paaduvaan Jaalakappazhuthiloodatira uyarunna neram'. You are my dear nightingale, dear chechi.    

Notes

Word    Meaning

Chechi   Sister

Amma      Mother

Appachi    Father's own sister